Oh, alcohol, you evil ghost!
by LottaCharlene
Summary: Inception is actually a success and of course they all celebrate together. Ariadne is a little bit too drunk, Arthur and Eames can't behave properly and Cobb tries to save his kids.


Ariadne was happy. Happy and drunk.

One week ago, it was the headline in every newspaper. _Robert Fischer is going to split up his father's empire._ Inception was a huge success, thanks to them all and Saito – like the generous millionaire he was – had sent a box full of expensive champagne to all of them.

They sat in Cobb's house, one bottle of champagne already empty, another one almost halfway done. Ariadne was by now a little tipsy and giggled with Eames about his suggestive jokes. And she had to stare at Arthur the whole time like he was an alien or something. She just couldn't do anything against it.

God, _Arthur_. She almost hadn't recognized him as he entered the living room of Cobb's house. Dark jeans, a button-up shirt with the first two buttons undone, so that Ariadne had an excellent view of Arthur's collar bones, his hair hanging loose, and a pair of glasses sitting on his nose. Oh dear Lord, he looked unbelievable sexy.

Thanks to some more alcohol, she started flirting with him. And Arthur just flirted back. He teased her good-naturedly, winked at her and most importantly he smiled at her several times. It were full-blown smiles with dimples and everything. Ariadne just felt her heart melt and she was totally lost in some inappropriate thoughts as Arthur tucked up his sleeves and revealed surprisingly strong arms.

Later that evening they decided that it was time to go and get some sleep. Cobb mentioned Phillipa and her habit to wake up ways too early in the morning, but probably it was due to Ariadne's obvious drunkenness that everyone agreed and called it a night. Since the house only had two guest bedrooms, which were occupied by Yusuf and Ariadne (they both arrived one day earlier), that left the living room for Arthur and Eames. Cobb prepared the futon bed with some linen, Ariadne watching him, leaning securely on the door frame.

"Do you really think that this isn't going to end in an absolute disaster? I mean, Arthur … and _Eames_!"

Cobb just grinned at her as he threw some pillows and blankets on the bed.

"They're too drunk to kill each other, believe me."

Ariadne gave him a sceptical look but then wishing him a good night and walked upstairs to her own bed.

* * *

Ariadne actually slept for a few hours – thanks to the alcohol – before she woke up to a very dry throat. For a moment she considered going to the bathroom on this level, but she remembered seeing a bottle of lemonade on the kitchen counter. So she crawled out of her comfy bed, her head slightly pounding, and walked downstairs to the kitchen. At the bottom of the staircase she stopped dead in her tracks. She clutched the handrail with a cold-sweated hand.

There were noises. Noises from the living room. Something rustled.

Ariadne could feel goose bumps forming all over her body. What was that? Now she could hear something that sounded like breathing. Was there a thief in the house? What should she do? Scream? Get a knife from the kitchen and go into the living room by herself? Call the police?

Ariadne could feel something like panic starting to bubble up inside her, but then her gaze dropped to the jackets in the entrance. Arthur and Eames. They were sleeping in the living room. Suddenly she felt a bit silly. How could she forget _that_?

She sighed relieved and stepped the last stairs down. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she thought of her two co-workers. They always bickered at work and she could only imagine, how Arthur must be feeling. Having to sleep next to Eames was certainly something that frustrated him like hell, and Eames would tease him forever. She could practically see it: Arthur would lie close to the edge of the bed, trying to avoid Eames as much as possible, and Eames would just be sprawled out across the whole space, trying to pester Arthur as much as possible. She even felt a little sorry for the Point Man.

Curious like a cat, Ariadne had to glimpse inside the living room. Her grin widened as she saw her imaginary picture proven right. Of course Eames didn't lie on his side of the bed but on Arthur's. To be exact, he was lying _on top_ of Arthur.

Ariadne nearly choked and clutched the door frame tightly to prevent herself from fainting to the floor. But she couldn't stop to examine the whole picture even further. Because this couldn't be true. This just couldn't be happening.

Eames' back lay bare, the blanket only covering him from his lower back downwards. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, which glistened in the moonlight coming in from the large windows. His head was buried in Arthur's neck. Arthur had his legs wrapped around Eames' waist, his fingernails digging into the flesh of Eames' back. They were both breathing heavily, but apart from that uttering no other sound. Like mesmerized Ariadne stared to the spot, where Eames' ass was rhythmically working against Arthur.

Eames straightened a little and Ariadne panicked that he might have seen her standing in the door. But Eames just had eyes for the man underneath him and as he quickened up the pace, he kissed, licked and bit Arthur, who threw his head back and exposed his throat. His breath came only in ragged little puffs and Eames pressed his lips onto Arthur's just in time to muffle the man's deep and guttural moan, pressing himself even closer to Arthur, who pushed his back off the mattress in a beautiful and perfect arch. Eames came almost immediately after, his hands gripping Arthur's waist with enough force to leave bruises, as though he was trying to melt into him. Then he literally collapsed on top of Arthur.

Ariadne was standing there in deep shock. She couldn't move an inch, because her brain was trying to process what she just had seen and was not capable of doing something like agreeing to move her legs. Only as both of her co-workers and _friends_ (oh dear God!) were starting to caress each other tenderly to gain some breath again, and Arthur were saying "Daniel" with so much fondness in his voice, she suddenly jerked out of her trance and almost ran back to her room. She just had to check her totem.

* * *

The next morning, Ariadne went to breakfast convinced that everything was a dream. Not a sleep provided dream (her totem never lied), but some kind of hallucination caused by too much alcohol. Every other explanation didn't sound very plausible. It couldn't have happened, because – honestly. Arthur and Eames? That was the best joke ever! Even though they respected each other, they didn't like each other very much. Eames just hated Arthur's stoic and distant manner; it made him see red. And Eames' impertinent and carefree nature went against the grain for Arthur. Besides, Arthur just wasn't into men at all. After all, it was _her_ he had kissed in Fischer's subconscious.

Of course this was, until she saw the red mark on Arthur's neck. His collar might hide it a bit, but not very good. Ariadne thought she must still be hallucinating, but she wasn't the only one noticing the suspicious mark.

"Uncle Arthur, what have you done to your neck?", James asked with big eyes and his mouth full of toast.

Everyone was now staring at Arthur's neck. An awkward silence rose, in which Arthur's ear tips became a shade of pink. Ariadne knew that – if she was in Arthur's place – she would be red like a tomato. Or lying unconscious on the floor.

But before Arthur could even say a word, Eames responded with a board grin.

"Oh, that wasn't Arthur. That was me."

"You?", James asked, his voice filled with wonder, while Arthur was looking at Eames warningly.

"Yeah", Eames said and his grin softened to a smile. "Just like that."

And with this, he leaned over to Arthur and kissed him lovingly at the hickey. In front of everybody.

Cobb's kids giggled, Yusuf just shook his head, Cobb glowered at them and Ariadne stared in utter disbelief. Not only because Eames had kissed Arthur in front of the whole team, but because Arthur didn't kill Eames instantly.

"How long have you been together?", Ariadne heard herself asking.

"Four months", Arthur responded easily, still glaring at Eames while stealing his toast. Eames didn't seem to mind either.

Yusuf coughed into his coffee. "That means, as we worked on the Fischer job, you two have been …"

Eames beamed at him.

"Well, I guess opposites attract", Cobb mumbled and pulled Phillipa's elbow out of the butter.

"Or undress", Ariadne murmured into her coffee. She didn't miss the look between Arthur and Eames that spoke of trust, affection, respect and thousand other things. She wondered, how she ever could have been so blind.

But she smiled to herself, because she knew that they were actually the perfect couple. And doubtlessly the most dangerous one.

James lighted the mood again, as he poured most of the orange juice on himself rather than drinking it.


End file.
